


Blaze Of Glory

by SeCrFiDr



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: ... - Freeform, Angst™, BUT COMMENT ON EVERY FIC YOU LIKE, Edit 3/10/19: Seriously this isn't about this shitty fic anymore, F/M, Hmm im kinda proud of it tbh but its prob shit, I FUCKING DARE YOU, I know, It takes two seconds to say "cool fic" and the author will love you, The reason why so many fics get abandoned is bcause of shitty reception, We've all seen fics with ten chapters and four comments, and it feels horrible that all i got was hits and kudos, angsty, but please give it a shot?, comment, comment on fics, did you like it? tell the author, don't be an asshole, dont comment on this fic bcause it sucks, edit 12/23/18: this...looks really shitty, fics, for now, it'll make their fucking year that someone liked their shitty passion project, kinda short, look...comment on people's fics..., on, past me was really proud of this :/, so please. this isn't even about this fic anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 01:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14727684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeCrFiDr/pseuds/SeCrFiDr
Summary: Alexander looking at how he burned those around him.





	Blaze Of Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Edited on 9/26/18: yknow, i whipped this out this about a week before i left the hamilton fandom. i have at least 20k of half/drafted fics in my drafts lol, so if i ever get back into this fandom (not likely) or just feel like revisiting old drafts (possible) look forward to that! anyway the edits i made to this thing were merely typo fixes. i really like this, but it could've better tbh  
> anyways, enjoy!

Alexander doesn't pretend to know how much he affects others.

He knows he's ruthless in his words, slaughtering anyone who dares breathe a thought against him, throwing pitchforks at childish taunts until the criminal is ruined forever, burning and tearing and destroying anything in his warpath, but he doesn't know the aftermath.

He doesn't know the pain of your entire world, all of your choices, every one of your accomplishments, being crushed into ashes that float away in the breeze - they might land on some historians paper for a second or two, or maybe you're forgotten in the never ending blaze.

However, he does know how it affects the families.

His - no, not his, he doesn't deserve her - sweet, kind, caring Eliza reduced to a stain of charcoal among the ground, the tears in her eyes, _the anger,_ the poison in her words that douses his fire while strengthening her own, the charred remains of his children's smiles, the curled and crumbling paper of their perfect family...

Oh, yes, he knows.

But he also knows that he deserves this. This isn't a spark sent from a snide politician, this is a torrent of rushing water tossing him around, drowning him as he's drowning himself in work, waves and currents sent from his own actions, his own choices, destroying him piece by piece until he's just an ember tossed in a lake.

He deserves this. He did this. He ruined his legacy. He, he, he, he, _he._

Alexander doesn't pretend to know how much he affects others.

He just knows how he affects himself.

Then, somehow, Eliza forgave him. She gently fanned his flame, even after he rubbed out Philip's under the heel of his boot. It wasn't enough, his days of blazing glory gone, yet he's not that sad to see it go.

He deserves it, after all. Plus, he's not quite sure what else he could ignite like he did in the old days.

Then Burr writes him a letter, and it awakens something in him. He lets his last sparks catch, watching his blaze grip Burr until Burr snaps and writes him into a duel.

How will this affect him? Will it ruin him even more? Will it snuff him out for good?

He doesn't know, yet a part of him flickers at the challenge, the adrenaline rush of a new opponent to destroy. As he finishes his last letter to Eliza, he smiles.

_1 2 3 4 5_

Ashes to ashes, dear Eliza.

_6 7 8 9_

Ashes to-

_Number ten paces fire-_

As he hits the ground, he lets his vision blur.

Without his blaze, Eliza could burn as she was meant to, and that's what matters.

His death is meaningless compared to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know, I'm supposed to be not listening to "First Burn" and spontaneously writing a fic at 2 a.m., but I have feelings okay?!


End file.
